


Returning the Favor

by ShortInsomniac98



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Acts of Kindness, Aziraphale Forgot His Umbrella, Caught in the Rain, Crowley Shields Aziraphale From the Rain, Cute, Ficlet, Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), M/M, Rain, Returning a Favor, Romantic Gestures, Short One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-08
Updated: 2019-08-08
Packaged: 2020-08-13 05:10:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20168695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShortInsomniac98/pseuds/ShortInsomniac98
Summary: Set on the day after the world didn't end, after dining at the Ritz, Crowley and Aziraphale leave the restaurant to head back to the car, when suddenly it starts raining. Crowley returns a six-thousand-year-old favor.





	Returning the Favor

**Author's Note:**

> Based on a request by superdogbiter on Tumblr.

“Ready to go?” Crowley asked as he retrieved his card from the little folder the bill had been in and prepared to stand.

Aziraphale stood and they walked together, back out the way they’d come in and out onto the pavement. They’d parked the Bentley about a block up the road, but just as they made it to the street corner, the bottom of the sky fell out and rain began to pour down on them. There hadn’t even been the usual light drizzle that usually preluded such a downpour, or if there had, neither of them had noticed it. In truth, neither of them had even noticed a cloud in the sky before leaving the Ritz.

“Oh, dear,” muttered Aziraphale, “I’ve left my umbrella in the car. I wasn’t expecting this today.”

“No worries,” Crowley said, and suddenly Aziraphale couldn’t feel the cold rainfall. “I suppose Adam’s still trying to get everything back to normal, even the weather. Meteorologists probably had no way of predicting this. Not that you can trust the weathermen at the BBC anyhow.”

Aziraphale looked around. It was still raining as far as he could see, except for just above him.

“Wh—” he started to say, but stopped when he looked up and realized that above his head, Crowley was shielding him from the rain with one of his wings. “Oh, thank you, dear boy,” he said with a smile.

“’Course,” Crowley said with a smile.

The rain was still falling on the demon, soaking his hair and his clothes. He spit a bit of water out and laughed.

“Oh, you’re still getting all wet,” said Aziraphale with a sympathetic frown, his brow furrowed. “This hardly seems fair.”

“It’s alright. I don’t mind,” said Crowley. “Anyway, I’m just…returning a favor, so to speak.”

“A favor?” asked Aziraphale.

The _DON’T_ over the crosswalk sign disappeared, and they made their way across the street a little quicker than they normally would have. Aziraphale didn’t want to keep Crowley in the rain any longer than he had to.

“Yeah,” said Crowley nonchalantly. “You know, way back…in the beginning, when you protected me from the first rain with your wing.”

“Oh, I’d nearly forgotten,” Aziraphale said with a small laugh. In truth, he hadn’t forgotten, but he had assumed that after this long, Crowley likely would have.

“I didn’t,” said Crowley.

They turned the corner, making their way up the street. The Bentley was in sight now, and they made their way quicker toward the car park.

“You aren’t worried about people seeing you with your wings out?” asked Aziraphale after a moment, suddenly realizing.

“Minor demonic miracle,” he said. “No one can see but us.”

“But won’t anyone notice you’re soaking wet and I’m not?”

Crowley chuckled. “This is London, angel. Nobody notices anything.”

“You may be right,” Aziraphale said, laughing with him.

They made it to the car, and Crowley walked Aziraphale around to his side of the car, keeping his wing over him until he was safely inside. Then, with a snap of his fingers, Crowley disappeared and reappeared behind the wheel an instant later wearing dry clothes and showing no sign of ever having been out in the pouring rain without an umbrella.

“Oh, must you make a show of everything?” Aziraphale teased, looking him over, not so discretely.

“Yep,” Crowley said, shooting him a sly little grin. “Your place or mine?”


End file.
